


Beyond The Battle

by adamwhatareyouevendoing



Series: Side By Side [2]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-08 12:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10387011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamwhatareyouevendoing/pseuds/adamwhatareyouevendoing
Summary: Leofric survives the battle at Ethandun, and joins Uhtred in his mission to reclaim his homeland.An AU for the second series.





	1. Episode 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to [Backwards Looking Forwards](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273024/chapters/12167744) that I promised oh so long ago - series 2 is finally here!
> 
> I'm literally just writing any scenes that come into my head, and borrowing lines/moments from the show. Hope you enjoy!

It is Aethelwold who finds Leofric, on the edge of the battlefield, getting the wound to his neck patched up.

“You are needed,” he says, as the last stitch is pulled taut and the thread snapped.

“The King?” Leofric asks immediately.

“Alive,” Aethelwold says. His voice gives nothing away as to his feelings on this matter.

Leofric’s stomach sinks. “Uhtred?” he manages to ask, his throat suddenly constricted.

“Alive,” Aethelwold confirms.

Leofric barely hears his next words over the rush of relief that claims him.

Aethelwold has to repeat the news. Iseult is dead.

Leofric pales, standing immediately. “I will see to it.”

 

* * *

 

He finds Uhtred wandering aimlessly among the bodies of those who fell in the battle.

“Beocca sent me,” Leofric says carefully. “Iseult is whole again. We should begin collecting wood for the pyre.” He knows that Uhtred would wish for a pagan funeral for her.

“You can, if you want,” Uhtred says dismissively. He has not yet looked up.

Leofric waits for a moment, but still Uhtred does not turn. He heads back to the assembled group of survivors and leaves him in peace.

 

* * *

 

The flames of the pyre lick high into the air, obscuring the shroud of Iseult’s body from view.

They stand in a silent huddle, watching the smoke rise. It is Hild who finally persuades Uhtred to join them.

“I loved her too,” Hild says quietly. Uhtred looks petulant. “What? Is it so out of the realms of possibility that a Christian could care about a pagan?”  
  
“It isn’t,” Leofric says quietly, looking sadly at Uhtred. Uhtred stares resolutely ahead, giving no indication that he has heard the words, nor the sentiment behind them.  
  
Hild looks between them, assessing. Whatever she sees is enough for her to move away and stand beside Beocca. The hint is clear.

“Uhtred,” Leofric pleads, unable to keep the desperation out of his voice. “Look at me.”  
  
And at last, Uhtred does. There is a whirlpool of emotion in his eyes.  
  
“She knew, didn’t she?”  
  
Leofric struggles to hold his gaze, but he has waited hours for Uhtred to open up to him and he is not going to waste it now. He thinks back to the night before the battle; the way Iseult had been reluctant to leave Uhtred’s side, deep sorrow in her eyes.  
  
“I think she did, yes.”

“Why didn’t she say anything?” His voice catches on the words.

“You know why,” Leofric says. It is all he can think of.

Uhtred nods, glancing back at the pyre. The firelight flickers across his face, and Leofric finds he cannot look away.

“I thought I had lost you too,” Uhtred says after a while. His voice is quieter than before.

Leofric feels a sting in his eyes. “It’ll take more than an axe to tear me from you.” He tries to put some levity in the words, but they are both too aware of how close it came to doing so.

Uhtred looks at him, and it is though he is readying himself to see the mark of Leofric’s wound properly for the first time. When he does so, his hand comes up almost instinctively, fingers stilling just before they meet the skin.

“I could not have borne it,” Uhtred whispers.

 

* * *

 

They ride off next morning, accompanied only by Hild and Wulfhere’s man, Halig. The North is their destination. Uhtred’s homeland.

First though, they must pass through Leofric’s own homeland of Mercia.

It feels strange to be back here, after so many years.

Uhtred, riding next to him, turns and says, “You’re home.”

Leofric feels as much at home here as he did at Lord Odda’s estate, but once more he is at Uhtred’s side, and that is enough to make anywhere feel like home.

 

* * *

 

Leofric sits with Hild and Halig, nursing a beaker of ale and trying not to watch as Uhtred slings an arm around yet another woman. It is their third day in Mercia, and the third of such a display.  
  
“He is a fool,” Hild says quietly, eyeing Uhtred with a mix of pity and despair.  
  
“He is an arseling,” Leofric replies, as close to agreement as he will get.

They watch as the woman leads Uhtred out of the tavern.  
  
“Keep an eye on him,” Leofric says, unable to bear the sight any longer. Perhaps a walk will clear his head. He turns from the table.

“And on her,” he hears Hild agree.

 

* * *

 

Leofric watches with undisguised amusement as Hild throws a bucket of water over Uhtred and he awakens with a start.

“She did the very same thing to me,” Halig offers as Uhtred blinks blearily at them.

A second bucket follows the first and Uhtred makes an almighty commotion as he stands.

“I will decide when we’re leaving!” Uhtred splutters, even though Hild has already turned away.

“She’s not wrong Lord,” Halig tries. “You have been drinking whole fields of barley.”

“Nor will I be lectured by an arseling!” Uhtred shouts, and Halig wisely leaves.

Leofric cannot help but smile at that, despite Uhtred’s surly mood. He throws Uhtred’s shirt at him.  
  
“Get ready, we leave... Well, now.”  
  
Uhtred stops moping long enough to look up at Leofric. “Not enjoying the view?” he teases with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Leofric rolls his eyes, but can’t help smiling fondly at him. He will leave the sternness to Hild.

 

* * *

 

Uhtred has been quiet ever since their meeting with Beocca and Brother Trew. Leofric knows he is consumed with thoughts of Kjartan and his revenge.

Everyone around them is asleep, but Leofric can tell, even in the darkness, that Uhtred is awake. He sits up, and sure enough, he can see the silhouette of Uhtred, sat across the room from him.

Leofric gets up quietly so as not to wake the others, and makes his way over into the candlelight.

Uhtred does not look up as he approaches.

“You should be sleeping,” Leofric says. “We will need our rest for what is to come.”

“Yes, I should be sleeping.” Uhtred looks up briefly. Their eyes meet.

Leofric sits down next to him, watches his fingers twist around the leather of his sword belt.

“Are you sure of this?” Leofric asks after a while.

Uhtred’s hands still. “I think it is fate that I am here.” Leofric looks up, the candlelight casting a soft glow across Uhtred’s face. “Kjartan and his son, they murdered my family, and they must be faced.” He meets Leofric’s eyes. “And I have my sister to find.”

“Are you certain she still lives?” Leofric asks quietly.

“Iseult was certain.” He looks off sadly into the distance.

Leofric knows instinctively that the conversation is over. He places a gentle hand on Uhtred’s shoulder as he gets up. “Then you should sleep.”

“Leofric,” Uhtred says, stilling his feet. “I would sleep better with you near.”

There is not much harm it can do now.

 

* * *

 

Uhtred becomes commander of Guthred’s army. Once more he is drawn into danger, and once more, Leofric follows him willingly.

 


	2. Episode 2

Leofric watches with pride as Uhtred fights; his opponent might be strong but it is clear that Uhtred is in no real danger.

Halig appears worried, but Leofric reassures him by saying, “All he’s doing is showing off his feathers.”

“I believe the lady feels the same,” Hild says, and Leofric follows her line of sight, to see the King’s sister watching the display with interest.

Leofric can’t say he blames her. “They usually do,” he says, looking back at Hild. “Even his scars are handsome.” He hears Hild laugh quietly beside him. It’s only partly a joke.

Uhtred looks over to Gisela then, giving her a smile. Leofric rolls his eyes, as the momentary distraction allows Clapa to renew his attack. Uhtred quickly turns the fight back to his advantage, pressing his practice sword against the man’s neck.

Leofric cannot help but feel pride at seeing Uhtred teaching the King’s guard once more. They may be serving a different King now, but it reminds him forcefully of their first meeting; of his initial opposition to Uhtred helping to train Alfred’s men, and later the grudging respect.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

 

* * *

 

“You could have been killed,” Leofric murmurs. They both should have been more cautious around the men who claimed to be Brynjar’s; more suspicious of their intentions. He should not have let Uhtred out of his sight.

His hand rises between them, as though he wishes to press it to Uhtred’s skin and feel the pulse beneath his fingers.  
  
It is late, and there is no one in sight, but that does not mean that they are not being watched. There are eyes everywhere here; assessing, untrustworthy. It makes Leofric’s skin crawl. It would be unwise to reveal too much. His hand drops to his side.  
  
“Have I not been close to leaving you before?” Uhtred teases, with a glint in his eyes.  
  
Leofric appreciates the levity in his voice, but the words still hit closer to home than he is entirely comfortable with. “Yes,” he returns, but cannot help giving in to the answering pull of a smile at his lips. “Far more often than you’d have me believe, arseling.”

 

* * *

 

They come close to losing Halig as well.

“Do you trust him?” Leofric asks quietly, when he finds a second alone with Uhtred. For all that Sihtric has said, he still once belonged to Kjartan.

“He has sworn his loyalty. We, of all men, know what that means.”

It is true enough, although Leofric is also all too aware that they have also shared moments of defiance.

He almost says as much, but Uhtred is looking across at Gisela, distracted.

 

* * *

 

Uhtred finds him that night in the tent they have claimed as their own. Hild and Halig are still around the fire, as far as Leofric is aware.

“I lay with her,” is Uhtred’s opening statement.  
  
Leofric blinks up at him. “What?”  
  
“Gisela.”  
  
Leofric pinches the bridge of his nose despairingly. “Why am I not surprised?” Uhtred wisely keeps his mouth shut. “You— You had better hope that Guthred does not find out, or I fear we will all be in danger.”  
  
“I didn’t think—”  
  
“No, you never do, do you?” He stands, jabbing a finger into Uhtred’s chest. “You never stop to think how your actions affect other people.” He bites down on saying anything further, but it is too late; the words are the harshest he has spoken to Uhtred in some time, and it has not gone unnoticed.  
  
Leofric is thinking of their present situation—of alliances with Danes, and Saxons, and now more Danes, and amongst them a King he can never truly serve as easily as Uhtred appears to.  
  
But Uhtred steps closer to him, and it is clear he is thinking of something entirely different.  
  
“Are you jealous?”  
  
There is a challenge in his eyes, but a thread of something in his voice that makes Leofric think he is genuinely curious.  
  
“It is no business of mine,” Leofric says eventually, voice steady. “I have no claim over you.” With some effort he moves to put some distance between them.  
  
A hand closes around his wrist before he can do more than take one step back.  
  
“I didn’t know if you wanted—”  
  
“Me?” Leofric scoffs. “You’re the one who’s been humping any woman you look at. You need not debase yourself with me.”  
  
“Except Hild,” Uhtred points out, but his voice is quieter.  
  
“Except Hild,” Leofric concedes wryly.

“I don’t consider it debasement,” Uhtred admits softly. “But I am a pagan, and if anyone were to find out, it would not matter. I am already a heathen in the eyes of their God. But you… I would not wish to tarnish your reputation.”

“Don’t you think that should be my decision to make?”

Uhtred is quiet for a long while, but his hand is still around Leofric’s wrist, thumb absently brushing across his skin. Leofric can feel his pulse racing against the contact.

Eventually Uhtred nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“What was that?” Leofric teases. “Did I just hear you admitting you were wrong?”

Uhtred laughs. “Don’t get used to it,” he grins.

 

* * *

 

After that, things are easier between them. They unite in their growing discomfort in the situation they have found themselves in.

They kneel together in the undergrowth, watching the Danes Erik and Sigefrid. Uhtred is prepared to attack, but Guthred is more reticent. They drop back together.

Leofric shares Uhtred’s dislike of the plan to invite more Danes into their ranks. The danger continues to increase.

 

* * *

 

They have only just tied up the horses at Eoferwic when Uhtred asks for the weaknesses of Kjartan’s fortress.

“There are none, Lord,” Sihtric says.

“There are always weaknesses,” Uhtred responds, leading his horse back out of the stable and mounting it. “I will see for myself.”  
  
“Uhtred,” Leofric says, before he can ride off. “I should go with you.”  
  
“No,” Uhtred says. Despite the people milling around, and Halig, Clapa and Sihtric watching closely, it feels as though this is only a moment for the two of them. “I will draw less attention on my own. I would have you stay here, safe.”

 

* * *

 

“You have spoken to the King?” Leofric asks, upon Uhtred’s return.

“I have. I expressed my wish to marry Gisela.”

Leofric looks up at him in surprise, trying to gauge the King’s reaction from the expression on Uhtred’s face. “Well you’re standing here in front of me, so it can’t have gone too badly,” he ventures.

“I believe he is amenable to it,” Uhtred says, a smile creeping onto on his face. He drops onto the cot next to Leofric, bumping their shoulders together.

There is nothing further he can think of to say, but it doesn’t matter when Uhtred is pressed so close to him, comfortable in the silence.

 

* * *

 

Leofric is awoken by a hand to the mouth, grabbed roughly by two men. He tries to shout out to warn Uhtred but cannot twist out of their grip. He hears Uhtred grunt behind him and then he is dragged next to him. The Abbot is there. Leofric knew he could not be trusted.

They are brought in front of the King. Clearly Uhtred’s conversation did not go as well last night as he had thought.

“You will become a slave, Uhtred,” Guthred says. Leofric’s stomach sinks.

“No!” Uhtred shouts. They have both been slaves before, and neither of them have a desire to return to that life.

“And Leofric with you,” Guthred continues, as though there has been no interruption.

“No! No, you have no argument with Leofric, let him go free,” Uhtred begs.

“No, Lord,” Leofric asserts, “I will stay beside you.” He would rather be sold into slavery a thousand times over than ever leave Uhtred’s side.

But Uhtred is too caught up to listen. “Guthred, let him go free. I beg you!”

It does not work; they are thrown into the cage together. This is what their loyalty has brought them.

 

* * *

 

Nightfall is creeping ever closer, yet the convoy does not stop. Under the cover of darkness, Leofric covers Uhtred’s hand with his own and does not let go.

“Why you?” Uhtred whispers despairingly. “Why could they not let you go free?”

“Because I am loyal to you,” Leofric says simply. It is the one thing that has never been in doubt. “They could never hope to control me. I would have killed them all sooner than accept losing you.”

He would have moved heaven and earth to find Uhtred. He can only hope that Hild and Halig will do the same for them.

 


	3. Episode 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode was pretty harrowing, so don’t worry, this chapter is only based very loosely on it. Probably best not to read unless you’ve seen the episode though.

For long weeks all they know is sea, and salt, and raging winds.  
  
Uhtred sits behind him as they row, and Leofric finds some comfort in listening to his breathing, harsh with the effort. It is something else to focus on beside the wooden bite of the oar against the raw skin of his hands, and the rub of the metal chains around his bloodied ankles.

They have been bound together through battle, but this is something else entirely.

For all the horror they endure, they become friendly with a fellow slave—a strong Irishman called Finan, who retains much of his good humour despite the cruelty. He sits behind Uhtred, his lilting accent carrying down the benches.

It is a camaraderie that can only strengthen the more they suffer.

“We survived Ethandun. We can survive this,” Uhtred says. He has started saying it often.

 

* * *

 

A storm hits.

It transpires that bailing is just as awful as rowing, with the additional difficulty of feeling like they are drowning. Every breath, and water fills the mouth; every blink, and water fills the eyes.

It is almost impossible to remain standing as the howling winds buffet their bodies. Uhtred is thrown against him numerous times when the boat rocks violently. Leofric can only help him up, arm trembling from the effort, unable even to offer a word of support lest the water choke him.

Freezing water pours into where they stand, flooding in faster than they can bail it out. The only thing to be grateful for is the way it numbs their skin, lessening the pain of the chains still cutting against their ankles.

It is morning before the rain stops, and the wind drops. By some miracle, they have all survived.

 

* * *

 

Winter comes, with the bitterest, harshest frost they have ever known. Their thin clothing provides no match for the icy winds cutting through to their skin like knives.

They huddle together for warmth. Uhtred is pressed close to his left side, the bare skin of their arms brushing as they shiver.

They disembark to spend winter on land. It does not stop snowing. Iceland must be the hell-hole of the world.  
  
“And I thought England was cold,” Leofric mutters. He has no energy for speaking louder. They are huddled together again, this time in a barn. It provides a little more protection from the elements than the boat did, but snow still blows in through the gaps in the wood.

Uhtred grunts in agreement, shivering against him.

 

* * *

 

They return to England in the spring.

Uhtred presses his eye against a hole in the boat. “Look,” he croaks, voice broken from disuse, but the joy in it is unmistakable.

Leofric joins him, pressing close against his body so that they can both watch the land get closer and closer. Uhtred throws an arm around his shoulders in relief. Leofric does likewise. Their grip is like a vice.

They have endured hell, but they have survived it together.

 

* * *

 

Leofric tenses as the one-eyed Dane takes a second look at Uhtred. He draws closer. Leofric wishes he had his sword with him.

“Uhtred Ragnarson,” the man says, “is that you?” Uhtred keeps his eyes focused on the ground.

A sword is thrown at his feet.

“Sven?” Uhtred says, finally raising his weary head. Anger contorts his face, and he picks up the sword, but he is too weak to fight.

Leofric sees Finan moves forwards at the same time that he does, but they are also too weak, and Sven’s men push them back easily.

Uhtred is left kneeling on the ground, defenceless, as Sven stands above him, sword raised to deliver the killing blow.

“No!” Leofric manages in a feeble shout, but there is nothing he can do.

The sound of hoof beats has never been so welcome. They are rescued.

 

* * *

 

It is the first time Leofric has met Ragnar. Uhtred seems pleased to be able to introduce them.

“You saved Uhtred at Werham,” Leofric says. Uhtred looks at him as though he is surprised that Leofric remembers. “Thank you.”

Ragnar nods. “It sounds as though I should be thanking you, from what Uhtred has told me.”

Uhtred looks away bashfully.

 

* * *

 

“Where’s Halig?” Leofric asks suddenly, looking around those men gathered around the fire.

“He did not make it,” Ragnar says. “He has been buried with sword and shield.”

They share a moment of devastated silence.

“You will say words for him, Hild?” Uhtred asks. “He died saving us.”

“I have,” Hild promises. “I will, always.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re Uhtred’s brother?” Finan asks, looking at Ragnar in disbelief.

“I am,” Ragnar grins.

“You look nothing like each other.”

They all laugh. It feels good to share mirth again.

“Are you his brothers?” Ragnar asks, looking to Leofric and Finan.

“Something like that,” Leofric says. He and Uhtred share a look.

“We are bound,” Finan agrees.

 

* * *

 

Everyone has settled to rest around the fire, but Leofric senses Uhtred move from his side once the others are asleep.

Leofric waits for a minute, then follows him.

Uhtred has not moved far from the camp, but far enough that it feels as though they are the only two souls under the moon. Leofric drops down next to him in the grass.

They are silent for a long time, just staring up at the sky. It is the first time they have been alone together in months.

Leofric stretches his legs out in front of him.

“It is a relief not to be chained, isn’t it?” Uhtred says quietly.

Leofric thinks of Uhtred, sobbing in Ragnar’s arms. “It is,” he agrees.

“Is it selfish that I’m glad you were beside me?” Uhtred asks, and his voice is even quieter, as though he feels guilty even for thinking it.

“It’s not selfish,” Leofric says softly, shaking his head.

“I do not think I could have survived it without you,” Uhtred admits.

It makes Leofric think of how close he came to losing him, back in England, of all places. Uhtred looks at him as if he knows.

His hand finds Leofric’s arm, and presses.

 

* * *

 

Hild finds them in the morning, curled next to each other amongst the wildflowers. She carries a bucket and a blanket with her.  
  
“I brought you some water,” she says. Her voice is soft, talking as though they both might break if she speaks too loud. “You could both do with a wash.”

“Thank you,” Leofric says, quirking a smile at her.

“You know what I mean,” she smiles. She hesitates for a moment, then turns to leave them alone once more.

Leofric removes his own shirt to wash first, then turns to Uhtred. He has not moved, save for his eyes tracing the lines of Leofric’s body. There is a warm familiarity in the look; there is no unfurling, just the mere solid fact of it.

“Take off your clothes,” Leofric says. Uhtred raises an eyebrow at him, eyes glinting despite the exhaustion. Leofric rolls his eyes. “At least your shirt then, come on.”

Uhtred manages to pull the shirt over his head with trembling arms. Leofric crouches down behind him, raising the dampened cloth to clean the whip marks across his back, touch gentle against his skin. The wounds are mostly healed, the blood long congealed, but the touch must sting because Uhtred flinches beneath his fingers.

“Sorry,” Leofric murmurs. He cannot find words to say anything further.

Uhtred reaches up to press Leofric’s hand where it rests on his shoulder, a gesture of comfort that Leofric does not know how to return.

He leans down and presses his lips to an unmarked patch of skin, hoping it is enough.

 

* * *

 

Uhtred visibly brightens when he hears that Gisela is safe. Leofric has prayed so, for his sake, and it is a relief to have it answered.

He is far less pleased by the news that they must return to Alfred, the thrill of his vengeance slipping away.

Once Gisela is part of their group again, they return to Winchester, Uhtred’s murder of the Abbot hanging above them like a cloud. Leofric is perhaps the only other person who does not mourn his passing. The Abbot might have been a Holy Man in title, but not in deed.

In different circumstances, Leofric might have been tempted to kill him himself.

 

* * *

 

Leofric waits outside Alfred’s chamber for Uhtred.

When he comes out, his expression is as dark as thunder.

“What happened?” Leofric asks, falling into step with him as he storms towards the courtyard.

“I am Alfred’s man once more,” Uhtred spits. His voice is a mix of anger and despair. “I had no choice. If I did not, he would have had Ragnar stand trial for the Abbot’s death.”

They both know the outcome of a trial like that. It is no choice at all.

“I have sworn myself to him,” Uhtred says, his voice quieter now. It seems that the worst of his anger has passed.  
  
“Did you kneel?” Leofric chances with a grin.  
  
“Shut up,” Uhtred responds, but affectionately.

“And what of me?” Leofric asks. “I hear Odda has position here. Am I to be returned to his service?”

“No,” Uhtred says, with vehemence at the suggestion. “He is no longer a Lord. I will not have you leave my side. That is, if you wish to be Alfred’s man once more. I do not blame you if you would rather remain a free man.”

“I am your man,” Leofric says. It is the closest to an oath that he can make. “If you have pledged your sword to Alfred, then I pledge mine also.”

Uhtred looks at him, considering. “Do you still have your chambers here?”

His intention is clear. There is only one reason he would ask.

“We can easily find out,” Leofric says, voice thick. “Are you certain?” He does not look at Uhtred as he says it.

“I am,” Uhtred says, and Leofric looks up at him with relief. “I would wish to forget Alfred’s face above mine.”

“Well, I don’t blame you, I am far more handsome,” Leofric deadpans.

It is a joy to see a smile upon Uhtred’s face once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Halig :( he deserved more than this fic could give him.


	4. Episode 4

Late noon gives way to evening, and still they do not part.

Leofric traces a scar on Uhtred’s arm, a mark he left, that day they were forced to fight each other. He cannot think of it any other way. It was not a choice.  
  
Uhtred’s hand covers his, stilling the movement of his fingers.  
  
“I know,” he says, as though he can read the apology in the touch without Leofric having to voice it. His chest heaves with the weight of it anyway. “I have not forgotten what you did for me, that day.”

“But have you forgiven me?”

“There was never anything to forgive,” Uhtred tells him, and Leofric can see the truth of it written plain on his face.  
  
“I could not bear to lose you now,” Leofric murmurs, “not even to Valhalla.”

 

* * *

 

“I should return to Gisela,” Uhtred says with quiet reluctance, when the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

There is an apology in his eyes that Leofric does not need.

 

* * *

 

They are due to depart for the North again, this time on Alfred’s business, but once again to meet with Guthred, and the brothers Erik and Sigefrid.

Uhtred finds Leofric in the stables after breakfast, motioning for him to follow. Once they are out of earshot, Uhtred turns to him.  
  
“I’m marrying Gisela, now. Come with me.”

“I am,” Leofric points out, then his brain registers Uhtred’s words. “What?”

“I have arranged it with Beocca,” Uhtred says, forgiving of Leofric’s blunt question. “Gisela was worried that Alfred might try to marry her off whilst I’m away.”

“She has a point,” Leofric agrees.

“I thought if we made our pledges now...” He looks away. “She said she could not bear it if I was taken from her again.”

It is an effort not to dwell on the memories from the time he speaks of.

“She lived without you for months,” Leofric says quietly. “Even I wasn’t strong enough to do that.”

Uhtred’s eyes meet his. “We are both weak, then. I want you there, by my side.”  
  
They are nearly at the church. Uhtred stops before the heavy oak doors, pulling Leofric up short. A question forms on his lips, but Uhtred speaks before he has chance to ask it.  
  
“Beocca said I’m too fond of love.”  
  
Leofric thinks he understands what Uhtred’s eyes are saying. He knows his own are saying it back.

 

* * *

 

He stands to the side as Uhtred and Gisela make their pledges.

It is, at the same time, both reminiscent of the last time they stood here, and the furthest thing away from it.

Marrying Mildrith had been for duty, even though love grew between them later. Looking at Uhtred’s expression now, Leofric knows that this union has the benefit of love from the beginning.

It is the same expression he wore outside the church, looking at Leofric. Now Leofric knows it meant exactly what he had suspected.

 

* * *

 

Leofric returns to the stables, leaving the newlyweds for a brief moment alone, but it is not long before Uhtred is at his side once more.

“Ready, arseling?” Leofric murmurs as he passes.  
  
“Why does he call you that?” he hears Finan ask Uhtred.  
  
“It is a name from years ago.” Uhtred smiles across at Leofric.  
  
Finan looks between them. Whatever he sees, he says nothing.  
  
“He is coming with us?” Leofric says exasperatedly when he sees Aethelwold mount his horse. He has little against him now, after all they have been through, but there is still some surprise.  
  
“Alfred’s orders.” Uhtred glances back at Gisela as they ride away.  
  
“She will be safe,” Leofric promises.

 

* * *

 

It is entirely unsurprising that Uhtred and Ragnar also intend to use this journey to take their revenge on Kjartan. The months of delay could not quench the fire, only stoke it.

 

* * *

 

They prepare to attack the Northmen.

“I will go in alone,” Uhtred says.

“No,” Leofric says, at the same time as Ragnar.

Uhtred turns to him after reasoning with his brother, and the small shake of his head says everything that his mouth cannot.

It is a little consolation that Finan will be going with him.

“Uhtred,” Leofric says, catching his arm before he can walk past, “be safe.” He cannot risk saying anything further.  
  
Uhtred’s eyes tell him that he understands. “I will.”

 

* * *

 

They arrive at Eoferwic.

The memory of the last time they stood at the foot of these steps ghosts across Uhtred’s face. Leofric only recognises it because he feels it too.

No power on earth could slow Uhtred’s path towards the King, and especially not Beocca.

They come face to face with Guthred. He is snivelling, and pathetic, and Leofric knows he would not move to stop Uhtred if he wanted to kill the man.

He almost does. It must take immeasurable strength not to.

 

* * *

 

Hild tends to Uhtred’s arm once they have all gathered by the fire. Leofric breathes a little easier once she confirms that he is not badly wounded. The relief must show on his face, because Uhtred smiles softly at him.

“Uhtred, will you join me, please?” Guthred asks, approaching their group warily.  
  
Leofric places a hand on his sword, but Uhtred shakes his head.  
  
“It’s okay,” he murmurs.  
  
“He considers me his greatest friend,” Uhtred quotes back later, laughing at Leofric’s scandalised expression.

“Poor man,” Leofric deadpans, “his situation is worse than I thought.”

 

* * *

 

They reach Dunholm.

Leofric watches Hild slip her hand into Uhtred’s. He is glad that she can offer him the comfort that Leofric cannot.  
  
“To the end,” Uhtred says, exchanging a final glance with Leofric, and then they attack.

 

* * *

 

“It’s over,” Uhtred says that night, with a note of finality in his voice.  
  
“There’s still Bebbanburg,” Leofric says. It will be strange, he thinks, once they have conquered there too. All the time he has known Uhtred, there has always been Bebbanburg, hanging like a cloud over him; a shadow behind him, wherever he goes.  
  
“There is,” Uhtred agrees. “But first, Wessex.” His eyes have softened, and Leofric knows he thinks of Gisela. “I need peace for a time.”  
  
“Do you know what Alfred intends now?”  
  
Uhtred shakes his head. “You will stay with me?”  
  
Neither of them know what will happen when they return to Winchester, and Leofric will not make a promise he doesn’t know if he can keep.

“We have been parted many times over the years - I daresay we could survive it again, if it came to it.”  
  
Uhtred shakes his head again, this time more violently. “But I do not wish to be parted from you.” His voice softens. “Surely, after everything, we are owed that.”

 


	5. Episode 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THREE. YEARS. LATER.
> 
> At first, I wasn't happy about the passage of time, but then it turned out to really help this chapter - this was my favourite episode, but didn't really lend itself to this 'verse!

Alfred grants Uhtred the estate of Coccham.  
  
“We will build gates,” Uhtred says upon their arrival.  
  
Leofric is the only one who knows he thinks of his land at Oxton. They have spent too long in battle to know that the peace will not last.

 

* * *

 

The King visits with regularity in the beginning.  
  
“He doesn’t trust me,” Uhtred bemoans.  
  
Leofric doesn’t deign to mention what happened last time Uhtred was given an estate, unsupervised. Mostly because he too was culpable.

 

* * *

 

Uhtred provides them all with a house. Leofric has never had a home to call his own before. It is plain, but more than he could ever have hoped to have.  
  
If it brightens whenever Uhtred enters, it is only because a home is more than timber and stone.

 

* * *

 

It is here that Leofric finds him one night, having returned from the tavern. Uhtred is sat on a chair, staring into the empty fireplace.  
  
“Lord?” Leofric says. It is a title he uses more often now.  
  
“Where have you been?” Uhtred asks, not looking up.  
  
“Drinking.”  
  
“My ale?”  
  
Leofric sits next to him, sees the small smile tugging at his lips.  
  
“Yes,” Leofric says, cheerily enough. “It is late.” There is a question in the words.  
  
Uhtred is quiet for a long moment, eyes still cast into the grate. “Gisela is with child.”  
  
“That is good news,” Leofric says, with a careful smile.  
  
Uhtred’s eyes snap to his. “I know it.” There is sadness under the defiance in his voice. He must see the understanding in Leofric’s eyes, because he says, “I just worry...”  
  
“I know it,” Leofric echoes.  
  
Uhtred smiles a little. It gives Leofric the confidence to reach over and press his thigh. Uhtred’s hand covers his and grips tightly.  
  
“Last time, we were at war. This is different,” Leofric tells him.  
  
“I hope so,” Uhtred admits quietly.

 

* * *

 

He is right. A son is born to them, followed soon after by a daughter.  
  
It fills Uhtred with more amusement than he should be allowed, Leofric thinks, as Uhtred watches him unsuccessfully try to stop Stiorra squalling in his arms.  
  
“I was not cut out for this,” Leofric grumbles. “It is harder than fighting Danes.”  
  
Gisela laughs and plucks her daughter from his unresisting hands, balancing her expertly on her hip until she quietens.  
  
“I take it all back,” Leofric says, but cannot help smiling at them both.  
  
It is strange to have a family after all this time.

 

* * *

 

The years pass, and slowly the signs of trouble begin to build. Uhtred kills a thief. Danes raid nearby villages. It feels like waking from a long and pleasant dream, only to be returned to harsh reality.  
  
Then Aethelwold arrives with a strange prophecy, followed swiftly by Alfred, a warning on his tongue.

“Are you seriously considering this?” Leofric asks, following Uhtred outside. Gisela remains in the hall, but had given him a pointed look as he left. “Gisela is right. Whatever has happened – whatever is to happen – we cannot become Alfred’s enemy.”

“You are free to leave,” Uhtred says. “It need not be your problem.”

Leofric releases a frustrated breath. Uhtred is being deliberately obtuse. Alfred has the unparalleled ability to rile him like this.

“You are always my problem, arseling.” There is no heat to the words, and when Uhtred looks at him, the fire has gone from his eyes.

“I won’t make any rash decisions,” he says, by way of a peace offering.

“Now, that would be a first,” Leofric grins.

 

* * *

 

They ride to Winchester for the wedding of Aethelflaed and Aethelred.  
  
“Perhaps we should find you a wife next,” Uhtred says, coming up behind Leofric at the edge of the gathered crowds.

“Hm?”

“Beocca,” Uhtred says gleefully, as though that explains everything. Leofric looks blankly at him. “He’s in love with Thyra.”

Leofric splutters a laugh loud enough to draw the attention of the people in front of them, so Uhtred takes hold of his elbow and leads him into conference a few feet away.

“I told him he should marry her.”

“Your solution to everything,” Leofric says with a roll of his eyes. “Except, perhaps, in Sihtric’s case.”

“You’ll be pleased to hear I’ve made my decision there too.” Leofric quirks an eyebrow. “He can marry his girl.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Leofric quips.

“Well, I’m feeling very generous,” Uhtred grins, “so, you may have any woman you wish.”

Leofric shakes his head fondly. “I am a soldier, not an Ealdorman. That is not a path that has ever been open to me.”  
  
“You are my man now,” Uhtred points out, “not just a soldier. If I give you my permission, you are free to do as you choose.”  
  
Leofric is quiet for a long moment. “Then I choose not to, Lord.”

 

* * *

 

For Uhtred, a few days counts as not acting rashly, and so they head for Skalds’ Hall at his command.

Leofric is uncomfortable that they are leaving without telling Gisela, but surely she will know soon enough. He can only hope that she is reassured that he will be by Uhtred’s side.

 


	6. Episode 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight delay in posting cause I was in Dublin over the weekend!

It turns out that Uhtred was right to be cautious; Bjorn is a lie after all.

“What does this mean, now?” Leofric asks, once he and Uhtred get a moment alone.

Uhtred considers for a moment. “We return to Wessex. If the Northmen are taking Lunden, it is something Alfred needs to be aware of.” There is a note of something in Uhtred’s voice that only Leofric would understand.

“But not immediately,” Leofric concludes.

Uhtred looks at him, and nods. “I need to think on it.”

Leofric knows that he will think of his own situation first, but also that of the fate of Wessex. He may not see eye to eye with the King anymore, but that does not mean that he is not loyal to their kingdom.

 

* * *

 

A monk approaches their group, attempting to interrupt Aethelwold in his tirade about the ghost and his promises. There is something in the boy’s face that strikes Leofric as familiar. Whilst the others are still paying attention to Aethelwold, albeit with amusement and irritation, Leofric studies the newcomer.

“Excuse me, Lord Uhtred. I am Osferth.”

Leofric inhales in recognition, as Uhtred finally looks at the boy.

“You are a monk, a baby monk,” Finan teases, before Leofric can say anything, and leaving Osferth to introduce himself.

“Lord, you… You know my uncle, Lord. His name is Leofric.”

Everyone looks to Leofric in surprise. Osferth looks at him too—seeing him for the first time.

“My sister’s boy,” Leofric says wonderingly.

“You are Alfred’s bastard son,” Aethelwold says, the accusation bitter.

“Ignore him,” Finan puts in helpfully.

“Sir,” Osferth says, looking at Leofric.

Leofric gets up and clasps the boy fondly. “How is your mother?”

“In good health, sir, last I saw her.” He turns to Uhtred hopefully. “I wish to join you, Lord, as a warrior. Be by your side as my uncle is.”

Leofric looks to Uhtred in question. “A convincing argument, no?” he grins.

Uhtred smirks at him in return, before they are interrupted by Steapa. Uhtred is being summoned by the King, during the wedding feast. It is not a good sign.

“Get him a sword and shield,” he says to Leofric, getting up. “I would be glad to have him if he fights as well as you.”

They exchange a final look before Uhtred departs.

 

* * *

 

Uhtred is scowling as he leaves the hall, where Leofric is waiting for him. He does not need to wait long for an explanation.

“We were seen, entering Daneland.” It was always a possibility, but one they had hoped not to face.

“You told him then?” Leofric prompts gently.

“Yes, Alfred knows Lunden has been taken. He also knows I was asked to join with Sigefrid and Erik.” Leofric’s surprise undoubtedly shows on his face. Uhtred’s brow darkens further. “The King is questioning my loyalty, despite the fact I am here, not in Lunden.” He spits the final words angrily, but then looks to Leofric. “Your Lord Odda seemed to support me, however.”

“He is not my Lord anymore,” Leofric says, “as you well know.” Uhtred smirks at him. “What now?”

Uhtred’s scowl returns. “We are to go to Lunden, with the newlywed turd, and negotiate with the brothers.”

 

* * *

 

They take a small number of boats to Lunden.

“Uhtred, how is it that you know these streets so well?” Aethelred asks, as they walk with purpose through the crowds.

“I stayed here for a time, with Earl Ragnar the Fearless, when I was a boy.”

“I did not know that,” Leofric says quietly, so that only Uhtred, who is walking beside him, can hear.

“It feels so long ago, now,” Uhtred muses.

Leofric can only agree. They have known each other for so long, it feels strange to remember his life before Uhtred was in it.

 

* * *

 

Uhtred is summoned again as soon as they return to Winchester. This time though, Leofric insists upon accompanying him.

The negotiations do not go in Uhtred’s favour. It is clear that the King’s trust in him is waning. Uhtred was right about Odda though; he looks as displeased by Alfred’s words as Leofric himself is.

When Alfred rises from his seat, Leofric tenses. The King has not looked so angry since their trial at the Witan.

“Uhtred, you will leave us.” Neither Odda nor Steapa look pleased by this, Leofric is relieved to note. The King may not trust Uhtred, but it is clear that many people, not just his men, still do.

Uhtred is bitter, understandably, but turns to leave the room. Leofric makes to follow him, but Alfred holds his hand up, stilling his feet.

“Leofric, please remain a moment.”

Leofric exchanges a look with Uhtred, who has turned back to them. He silently begs Uhtred not to argue; sees agreement in his eyes before he turns and leaves.

“Lord?” Leofric asks, once the door has closed behind him.

“I have just one question for you, Leofric, and I expect you to answer me honestly. You were once Lord Odda’s man”—Leofric’s eyes flick to the man in question; the man whose service he would never have thought to leave until the day he met Uhtred—“and I trust you will answer with that honour in mind.”

It is clear that Leofric is now considered tarnished through his association with Uhtred, but, as the King had once listened to his plea in front of the Witan, Leofric hopes that his words will be able to get through to him again.

“Do you trust Uhtred?” Alfred asks.

“With my life, Lord.”

At this moment he does not know that Steapa will echo the sentiment later, and that their words, along with Odda’s confidence, will be what convinces the King to allow Uhtred into the attack on Lunden; it is simply the honest truth. He trusts that Uhtred will do what is best for them all.

He knows, more than anyone else, what Uhtred has given in Alfred’s service; what he has given to it, and what he has lost because of it.

 


	7. Episode 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly longer chapter this time to apologise for the wait!

They pull away from the rest of Alfred’s army, Leofric close behind Uhtred.

When they set up camp that night, Uhtred is quiet.

“If you believe her to be alive, you will not abandon her,” Finan says, broaching the subject that Leofric had been working on how to.

It is true that it is best for Uhtred to remain away from Winchester whilst the news is imparted to the King, but also true that he cannot return to Coccham without any knowledge on Lady Aethelflaed’s situation.

Uhtred glances at Leofric, then turns to Sihtric. “Take Rypere there and go to Beamfleot.”

“We are to spy?” Sihtric asks, looking delighted.

“You’re to confirm that Lady Aethelflaed is alive and how they’re treating her,” Uhtred says. “Send Rypere back to me at Coccham.”

Leofric only half-listens to the rest of his instruction as he is formulating his own suggestion—one he knows Uhtred will not like.  
  
“Lord,” Leofric says, and something in his voice catches. Uhtred looks at him enquiringly; he has heard it too then. “I wish to go with them.”  
  
“No,” Uhtred says immediately. It is understandable; after all, Leofric is his man now. This is not his duty.

“Uhtred, think about it,” Leofric urges. “If the Lady is alive, you will have to go to the King and tell him. He will believe my word.”

It is not meant as a slight against Sihtric, and Leofric almost expects some argument from the man, but a quick glance at the rest of the group confirms that no one is preparing to interfere. Everyone is listening intently, whilst trying to look like they aren’t.

“You don’t have to do this,” Uhtred says, but at least he is not disputing the sense in the plan. “You owe the King nothing.”

Leofric’s lips twitch into a soft smile. “It might help you to regain his favour,” he points out. Surely Uhtred must know that everything Leofric does is for him.

“I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger for my sake.”

Clearly he doesn’t know. “You aren’t asking,” Leofric says, willing Uhtred to understand. “Just as you never asked me to follow you into battle, or slavery.” He can feel Finan’s eyes on them now. “It would make no difference.”

Any defence that Uhtred might have put up dies on his tongue; Leofric can see it in the softening of his expression.  
  
“Be careful,” he says, instead. “If you are seen, they will know you are not a Dane.”  
  
“I won’t be seen,” Leofric promises.

 

* * *

 

It feels strange to part, and even stranger to have Sihtric at his side, rather than Uhtred. The image of Uhtred riding away from him plays over and over in his mind as they head towards Beamfleot. He can still feel the phantom touch of Uhtred’s hand on his arm from their goodbye.

“Do you think she is alive?” Sihtric asks, breaking into Leofric’s awareness.

“I think we should worry about ourselves first,” Leofric says, as the fortress of Beamfleot rises before them. “This is where we part.”

“I will send Rypere when there is news,” Sihtric nods.

Leofric watches them until they are only specks on the horizon, then heads for the trees.

 

* * *

 

It is more of a relief than Leofric expected, to hear the news that Aethelflaed is alive, and seems well.

“I will go to Coccham,” Leofric tells Rypere. “You stay with Sihtric, follow Lord Uhtred’s instructions.”

At last he is returning to Wessex, and to Uhtred.

 

* * *

 

He is greeted at Coccham by the sight of Finan and Clapa, falling over one another in their attempt to announce his arrival to Uhtred first. He laughs, and rides past them both.

Uhtred strides out of the hall to greet him, pulling Leofric into his arms.

“It is good to see you,” Uhtred says quietly, leading him towards the hall.

“And you, Lord.”

A hush falls as they enter; everyone waiting with baited breath to hear the news from Beamfleot.

“Lady Aethelflaed is alive and well,” Leofric reports, to relieved cheers. He sees Hild raise her eyes skyward and cross herself. He sees Osferth do the same, and smiles at the boy.

“We ride for Winchester in the morning,” Uhtred says, to murmured assent from his men. “Tonight we will celebrate.” He leads Leofric to the table, fetches a bowl and a flagon of ale. Quieter, for Leofric’s ears only, he adds, “We will celebrate that you are come back to us.”

 

* * *

 

Many hours later, Leofric bids goodnight to the men still gathered around the table. Uhtred follows him out of the hall.  
  
“Osferth said you spoke of me often to him.” Uhtred’s eyes twinkle mischievously.  
  
Leofric laughs. “Have you been terrorising the poor boy whilst I’ve been away?”  
  
“A little,” Uhtred grins. “You said I was a great man.”  
  
“The boy exaggerates,” Leofric says. “I wrote, once or twice.”  
  
“You can write?”  
  
“Badly. Likely he couldn’t read a word,” Leofric says, deadpan.  
  
Uhtred’s smile widens. “You didn’t visit?”  
  
“I hardly had much chance did I? I spend most of my time chasing after you.”  
  
“When did you write then?”  
  
Leofric rolls his eyes. “Does this interrogation have a conclusion any time soon? I would like to see my bed sometime this night.”  
  
Uhtred smiles again, this time softer, more affectionate. “Just answer the question.”  
  
They have reached Leofric’s house. Uhtred follows him inside.  
  
“The first time – when I spoke of you, that is – was after Werham. You might recall I had some time for reflection during that particular period.” He manages to keep his voice level. Uhtred reaches forwards to press his arm anyway.  
  
They have never really spoken about Werham, even though it was one of the longest partings in their time together. Perhaps because everyone, Leofric included, had thought Uhtred was dead—not something he finds he wishes to dwell on.  
  
He wishes to dwell even less on the second time he wrote.  
  
“In my cell, after Cornwalum,” he says, when Uhtred asks. “It came in useful, knowing palace servants.”  
  
Uhtred is quiet for a moment. “And you told him I was a great man?”  
  
“I did,” Leofric says, as though the words emblazoned on a page could have atoned for his sins if he had killed Uhtred, or given him any measure of peace in living without him.

 

* * *

 

They arrive at Winchester, and head straight for the Witan. Gisela accompanies them. They are a united front, and will remain so in front of the King.

“Lord,” Uhtred says, approaching the front of the hall. Alfred’s face is stone. “Lady Aelswith,” Uhtred continues. He is holding well with convention.

Leofric is surprised to see the Lady smile, her eyes shining wet with tears. She looks as though she believes Uhtred is the hope they have been waiting for.

“I am here with news of Aethelflaed.”

Leofric, watching the King and Lady Aelswith carefully, sees them steel themselves.

It is Aethelred who speaks first. “From the Northmen?”

“From my own spies, who sleep within the walls of Beamfleot,” Uhtred says, glancing quickly at Leofric, “and from Leofric, who carried the news.” Alfred nods for Uhtred to continue. “Lord, Aethelflaed is alive. My men have seen her with their own eyes.”

“This is true, Leofric?” Alfred says, voice carrying commandingly to the back of the hall.

“It is, Lord,” Leofric asserts.

Lady Aelswith sags with relief, happiness plain on her face.

It is a surprise that she is the one to finally persuade the King to allow Uhtred to attend the negotiations with the brothers; the last time Leofric had seen her smile, it had been full of vindictive joy that Uhtred might be put to death for treason. It is hard to reconcile that person with the woman he sees in front of him now, smiling at Uhtred with hope and belief.

Uhtred is closer to regaining the King’s favour with each confidence.

 

* * *

 

“You aren’t planning on abandoning me too, are you?” Uhtred asks, grinning at Leofric, once Beocca has departed.

Leofric pretends to consider it. Uhtred punches him playfully on the arm.

“I don’t know about God,” Leofric says, echoing Beocca’s words, “but I have been placed at your side, and I have no intention of leaving it now.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can anyone believe it’s the last episode tomorrow?? I don’t know what I’m gonna do without it.


	8. Episode 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, apologies for the delay, I actually had something resembling a social life this week! Also this chapter kept getting longer and longer, so enjoy!

“Is it love, Father?” Osferth says in answer to Pyrlig’s question about the land; about the reason why men will go to war.

Leofric smiles gently at the boy after Pyrlig puts him down. Osferth seems to cheer easily however, despite being referred to as a bastard.

“It can only be love,” the priest is saying.

Leofric does not mean to look at Uhtred at the words; he doesn’t think Uhtred means to look at him either.

“It is a powerful thing,” Pyrlig continues. “Would you not agree, Lord Uhtred?”

They are both aware of what the priest means by the words, but, looking at each other, it is difficult to remember it. The land holds only minimal significance in comparison to the lives of the people they care about.

 

* * *

 

“The Lord Odda is treading a dangerous path,” Uhtred muses, once he has left Alfred’s hall and joined Leofric in the courtyard. “Get your nephew to keep an eye on him. I fear he will not listen to my advice.”

Leofric cannot help but smirk at the irony. “Ah yes,” he grins, “Heaven forbid someone not listen to advice.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Uhtred replies, deadpan, then he sobers in earnest. “The King will pay the ransom.” He looks around them and lowers his voice. “Gather the men. I have something I need to share with you all, if it stands any chance of success.”

“A plan?” Leofric asks.

“Of sorts.”

 

* * *

 

Understandably, Leofric does not see Uhtred again that night; after the news of his agreement to aid Aethelflaed’s escape with Erik, he retires to his lodgings with Gisela.

Leofric rises early the next morning, after a fitful night’s sleep. He is alone in the stables when Uhtred enters. Uhtred seems relieved that they are to get a moment together.

“After this, you will leave with us?” he asks, voice low so that no one can overhear.

“Of course,” Leofric says, immediately. He had expected this; had run through the scenarios last night instead of sleeping, and arrived at the same conclusion. By doing this, Uhtred will have broken his oath to Alfred. They both know what betrayal of the King leads to. Leofric has no intention of seeing Uhtred in front of the Witan again.

 

* * *

 

Osferth comes to them that night with news of the Lord Odda.

“He’s been there for part of the day and all of the night,” Osferth says, as they head towards the tavern.

Odda is in a bad state, but he is not so worse for wear that he cannot speak. It would perhaps be better for him if he couldn’t. Uhtred was right—he is treading a very dangerous path indeed.

It is difficult to reconcile the man with the one Leofric so admired in the long years past. The thought that the honourable Lord Odda, who killed his own son out of loyalty to the King, is now preparing to betray him only serves to highlight all the things they have endured in this battle.

He looks at Uhtred and wishes he didn’t understand how that feels.

 

* * *

 

Dawn brings with it the arrival of Sihtric, bearing news from Beamfleot.

The plan seems too simple. Leofric thinks of all the plans they have had in the past, which too had been blessed with simplicity. They know all too well how those turned out.

Gisela shares his concern. When they make to leave, she stops Leofric with a hand to his arm.  
  
“Look after him,” she says, casting a worried glance at Uhtred’s retreating back. “I cannot live without him.”  
  
“I will,” Leofric promises. “Nor can I.”  
  
Gisela smiles at him with understanding and releases his arm.  
  
“Look after yourself too,” she says, before Leofric has taken more than one step away. “I know he feels the same about you.”

 

* * *

 

Leofric approaches as Odda is leaving. He watches as the man rides away. Uhtred appears at his side, his eyes also fixed on the retreating Lord.

“How is he?” Leofric asks with concern.

“He says he remembers nothing.”

“Do you believe him?”

Uhtred shrugs, still staring the way Odda had departed. “He swore on his life he would not. It’s his choice though,” Uhtred says, and his troubled expression confirms what Leofric had suspected. “There’s nothing we can do.”

 

* * *

 

They prepare to set sail for Beamfleot.

Osferth hovers nervously on the shore. “Lord?” he says.

Leofric, helping to load the shields, watches Uhtred climb from the boat. He is close enough to overhear, but does not intercede; Uhtred is understanding of Osferth’s fear, no doubt because the boy is related to Leofric.

“Perhaps we’ll find you an axe,” Uhtred says.

Leofric looks up again and their eyes meet, unbidden. Neither of them wish to think of that particular weapon, but it is true that it requires less skill to wield than a sword.

“Thank you, Lord,” Osferth says, still looking troubled.

Leofric gives up his pretence of not listening and claps the boy on the shoulder. “You came here,” he says. “That takes courage — to leave everything that you know. Don’t forget that.”

“I don’t want to let you down,” Osferth says quietly, eyeing the ground.

“You won’t,” Leofric promises. “Uhtred is right. Everyone is afraid of something.”  _Of losing someone._

 

* * *

 

There are more guards waiting at the shore than Sihtric expected.

Uhtred is undeterred. “We attack as soon as it’s dark,” he says.

Dusk is already upon them; the men on the pier have lit their torches.

Leofric thinks of Gisela’s words to him, before they left. He looks at Uhtred, wondering if he should attempt to dissuade him, but the fire in Uhtred’s eyes burns brightly. He will not abandon the plan now, no matter how dangerous.

“Not long then,” Leofric quips, instead.

Uhtred grins at him.

 

* * *

 

Despite being outnumbered, they subdue the guards fairly easily. The only negative is that they lose half their men in the struggle.

It is only once the Danes are dead, and they are waiting in the reeds for Erik and Aethelflaed, that Uhtred begins to become suspicious. Then his plan gets even more dangerous.

“We go to the fortress. We came to free Aethelflaed.”

Leofric feels Osferth flinch beside him, as everyone else stares at Uhtred.

“We came to kill the guards,” Osferth says.

“Bastard, you will say nothing,” Uhtred snaps.

“Uhtred,” Leofric says, in warning. He has the good sense to look contrite.

When he turns to leave, the rest of their group hover reluctantly for a moment. Finan gets to his feet, looks at Leofric, and together they follow Uhtred. Leofric can hear the others join behind them.

It is likely that they will not all make it out alive.

 

* * *

 

“It is hopeless,” Erik tells Uhtred. At last, the truth.

Finan tries valiantly to persuade Uhtred that this mission is beyond them, but, as usual, Uhtred does not listen.

“Uhtred?” Leofric murmurs, in one last attempt at sense, but when Uhtred turns to him his face is determined. His eyes seem to plead with Leofric. Against his better judgement, Leofric nods.

It has long been true that wherever Uhtred goes, Leofric will go too, without question—always. The only place he cannot follow him to is Valhalla.

 

* * *

 

“If it’s reputation you want, you can begin with killing me,” Uhtred says, facing Sigefrid, and unsheathing his sword.

“Uhtred, no!” Erik says, stealing the words from Leofric’s mouth, and stealing the attention of his brother.

Leofric steps closer to Uhtred anyway.

 

* * *

 

There is no time to mourn the loss of Clapa, following the madness, and fire, and fighting. It was an axe to end him. Leofric feels the blow as a phantom pain to his own neck, a reminder he has not been able to forget.

Somehow they escape the fortress of Beamfleot, not knowing how many pursue them out of the gates. They ride desperately, furiously, towards the trees.

On the hill there is an army waiting.

“It’s Odda. It’s Odda’s army!” Uhtred cries with relief.

Now they ride with hope, towards Alfred’s men.

The King’s eyes are filled with tears to be reunited with his daughter. There is hope that he will forgive Uhtred acting of his own volition to rescue her; there is no need for the truth to come out now.

Sigefrid, along with the men he has remaining, appear at the bottom of the hill, their torches blazing in the darkness.

Uhtred begins to try and convince the King that to fight is their only option. Odda approaches them to support him.

“Uhtred,” Leofric says quietly, drawing his attention away from Alfred, who is staring at the Danes as yet undecided.

Their eyes meet. They both know there is no option but to fight. Uhtred’s gaze flicks to the jagged scar on Leofric’s neck. He knows they are both thinking of Ethandun, and how close they came to being parted.

All the words that remain unsaid weigh heavy on Leofric’s tongue. There is no time for any of them.

“Don’t die,” he says, instead.

“I won’t,” Uhtred promises.

Their hands find each other of their own accord and suddenly they are gripping each other tightly.

“Don’t die,” Uhtred says, close to his ear.

“I won’t,” Leofric replies.

Sigefrid and his men begin to charge.

“Shield wall!” the King shouts, and suddenly they are being engulfed by men.

The last thing Leofric hears is Uhtred shouting for a shield, and then he is gone, lost amongst the soldiers.

 

* * *

 

The battle is over. Word spreads that Sigefrid is dead, and those of his men not already killed surrender in staggered confusion.

Leofric sees Finan first, the wound to his head still oozing blood.

“Uhtred?” he asks, in desperation. He half remembers hearing Uhtred calling Sigefrid’s name, shouting for him to face him.

Finan points in the direction he had last seen him, and Leofric staggers off, clapping him on the shoulder as he passes.

Finally, he sees Uhtred, stood over Sigefrid’s body.

Before he can reach him, however, he spots Osferth, hunched on the ground. Leofric pats him on the shoulder.

“You’re alright, you’re alright.”

Osferth looks up at him, pale and sweaty, but thankfully uninjured.

“I’m alive,” he says, relieved.

“You are,” Leofric smiles. “I’m proud of you.”

Perhaps Uhtred hears his voice then, because he turns; Leofric notices the movement out of the corner of his eye. He looks up and sees Uhtred bleeding heavily from the mouth.

Leofric’s feet move without him thinking about it, but then he is in front of Uhtred. The concern must show in his eyes because Uhtred presses his arm.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs, a little thickly.

“Thank God,” Leofric says, relief packed in the syllables.

Uhtred’s mouth quirks. “Gods,” he corrects. “Thank the gods.”

They cling to each other gratefully. It appears that fate has determined that they are to stay together.

 

* * *

 

Leofric waits nervously outside the hall for Uhtred, where he had been summoned by the King.

In a typical exit, Uhtred storms out to greet him.

“Is everything okay?” Leofric asks, worriedly. After all, what Uhtred did could be seen as treason, no matter the welcome outcomes of Lady Aethelflaed’s freedom, and the defeat of the Northmen.

Uhtred nods, understanding his fear. “Odda told Alfred I believed I was acting on his orders. I did not dispute it.”

Leofric breathes easier then. He could not have borne to see Uhtred in front of the Witan again. “What is to happen to Odda?” he asks, already fearing the worst.

“He is to go on trial. For treason.”

They both know the outcome is a foregone conclusion.

Leofric nods, throat suddenly tight. Uhtred is looking at him as though he is seeing him properly for the first time.  
  
“I know now what you did for me, that day,” Uhtred says, lowering his eyes. “I mean, I knew, before. But now...”  
  
“You understand,” Leofric says. There is nothing bitter in the words.  
  
“You could easily have blamed me for it – for what we did in Cornwalum – entirely.”  
  
“I wouldn’t,” Leofric swears. “I _couldn’t_.”  
  
Uhtred looks at him then. He understands the truth of it at last, the truth behind everything Leofric has done. It feels like a blessing.

 

* * *

 

They ride out of Winchester sombrely, but together. Alive. In the end, that is all that matters.

Hopefully, beyond the battles they have faced, they can find a measure of peace, at least for a time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fingers tightly crossed for a third series! Hope you've all enjoyed this <3
> 
> I'm [skatingthinandice](http://skatingthinandice.tumblr.com/) on tumblr - come say hello!


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